Gray Dawn
by Shingeki-no-Kenobi
Summary: -We fight their wars for them, and the only reward is our own blood.- Touko has been captured by Team Plasma, preventing her from defeating N and saving the region from "Pokemon liberation". Now a prisoner, Touko has no choice but to fight her way out with everything she's got. FerrisWheelShipping, violence, dark themes. R&R!


_I started out with a promise, and ended with one. Juniper couldn't have known how she had changed Unova's fate by giving a little girl a red-and-white ball, the device that held a spirited Oshawatt._

_Cheren and Bianca seemed to be courageous, moving on their feet to take that first step with me. A thin stretch of grass and a leap later, Striaton. Fennel lived there, and she taught me how to use a personal computer._

_"This machine could save you and doom you all at once. If it crashes, or you break it, your stored Pokemon are automatically released. Their code lines are deleted and Pokeballs evacuated." she told me, giving me her number. "Personally contact me when you need assistance. It's the least I owe you after saving me from that Liepard."_

_City after city, face after face, battle after battle, they all blurred._

_Skyarrow Bridge, leaning over in awe with Bianca, careful not to crash our bikes. Castelia, waiting forever for an ice cream. Nimbasa-_

_That green haired boy was my demon, dragging me to Hell while I fought and claimed the title of Hero._

_Dragons, screaming, falling. Truth, ideals, past lives. N and I were trapped in an endless reincarnation vortex that we could never escape as long as we stayed enemies._

_Fight, fight, Touko!_

_Peace is not an option, N!_

_No matter how hard I try, I can't forget those damning human faces, torching me to fight their war, defend their abuse, protect their cities. Become their legends._

_And the day came that I had to kill, or be killed. A boy in green stood at the end of my journey, taunting me with those lips that had once been my saving grace._

I ran through the tunnels that day, hell and grunts at my heels. Shots rang out every now and then, whenever a kid would tell Plasma, "Let's battle!".

A champion does not cry.

But I did.

Escaping Victory Road, racing towards that tea-green king at the end, I thought I'd never make it. Reshiram called to me, a shrill keening resonating from the Orb.

"You must prevail!" The beast gave me willpower. So much that I picked up my exhausted pace and could see the exit.

My predecessors were whispering to me. Go, go, go, Touko. Run this rat race. Win for us and for all the times we lost.

An Escadrill stepped in front of me, and I cut him down, Zebstrika flashing like a ghost from his Pokeball, here one second, gone the next. The grunts were close behind, summoning Pokemon and loading pistols. I would be Whitlea Touko, another heroine felled by something greater than myself.

"Not now, not yet," I chanted, finding refuge in the words, as if they exorcised Plasma from the world. I saw light and the forgiving sky as I emerged in front of a magnificent, terrifying, gargantuan castle which was slowly consuming the Pokemon League with its stone maw.

And then a bullet caught me in the arm, burning through my flesh, tripping me over air and pulling me down with a scream and a promise.

"I'll kill you all," I whispered, then everything went black, white, and the shades between.

-...-  
I awoke to a grin. A shit-eating grin. I thought. Pearly white teeth and pink lips smiled down at me.

I thought I knew that mouth so well, considering the kisses we had shared.

Once upon a time, a boy and a girl sat atop a Ferris wheel, far from their fates in a warm, velvet-lined carriage, with the clouds as their steeds and the sky as their road not taken. A kiss was shared and destinies set, and that day, two paths both joined and forever separated.

I had loved him. He had loved me.  
But the world's wars are much more beguiling. Obligating. Requiring our services as the martyr figureheads.

_"Would you give your life, Touko?"_  
_"Of course. On one condition."_  
_"And what is that?"_  
_"He doesn't have to give his."_

My own voice echoed to me. Disgusting words, candy coated with infatuation-  
_"I love him. I can't fight this war if he's the enemy."_  
_"You have a responsibility. You are the hero of..."_

Funny how the Hero of Truth had lied to save her prince.

_"He's brainwashed. A trial would be fair... there's no need for guns-"_

_Saboteur,_ I hissed inwardly.

"Traitor!" I growled, moving away from his face.

N frowned, sitting up from his previous position.

I was laying on sterile, white sheets, shackles and chains attaching me to the iron headrest, with enough leniency to move my arms to a horizontal position but no more. I instantly distrusted this position. Rumors had been passed about Ghetsis's cruel torture methods, and I didn't intend to find out the truths behind it.

The room was white as well, with a television across from me attached to the wall. Three overhead fluorescent lights lit my prison with aggravatingly consistent light, so bright my retinas hurt every time I blinked. To the left of the bed, large windows overlooked the ocean, which was strange because the castle that had risen as I approached it stood atop the Pokemon League, which was inland.

Several books were stacked on the bedside table, as well as a large glass of water.

Then I noticed the arm. My left arm was wrapped in gauze, and felt so sore I almost wished it was numb. A stinging, lingering scent of alcohol and medicinal items permutated the air. There were no IVs or heart monitors, which told me I was in a generally healthy state. Then again, N was there, and I wouldn't call his presence health-promoting. While he looked at me, I felt bile rise in my throat. It was nearly the same level as the nausea Ghetsis induced in me, but not quite.

I was dressed in pocketless white linen, and my Pokeballs were nowhere visible in my room. My rib cage swelled with grief and I felt the anger rise from my churning stomach to my reddening face.

"Where are my Pokemon?" I barely contained my muscles from lashing out.

"Somewhere safe," N vaguely answered. Before I could push the issue further, he held up a hand to silence me. I wanted to fight him, but the look in his eyes (and the chains on my wrists) advised me otherwise.

N's expression changed to a somber, albeit strict, mask. "Touko, you know I was- and am- doing what was best for the-"

"The welfare Pokemon, yes, yes, I've heard your repetitive speeches. Have you ever thought that most Pokemon enjoy their roles by our sides? And- never mind." I frowned. "This isn't about Pokemon. I've long since given up on the pieces of our relationship. It's buried business to me now. It's the way you fucking took my trust and twisted it like a knife. Or a bullet," I fumed, pointing at my arm. "I trusted you and told you everything. And you had the audacity, after the inevitable end, to-to..."

"Touko. You're being unreasonable." N coldly stated. I ignored him.

"Where's Alder and the Elite Four, The gym leaders?" I paused a moment. "Bianca and Cheren? I swear to Arceus, N, if any harm came to them, I will throttle you with your own underwear," I vowed, completely serious in my threat.

"It's not wise to threaten your captor," N sighed at what must have been a horrid expression on my part. "They're all perfectly fine. Everyone has been released to the public except Bianca and Cheren. They're still here for further interrogation."

"They're innocent civilians!" I protested.

"Cheren killed 27 armed guards and Bianca destroyed a whole wing of my royal castle."

Pompous ass. "I stand in my claims that they had nothing to do with the rebellion against Plasma. It was just me. I dragged them into it. They will not be harmed."

"Lord Ghetsis will do with them as he sees fit," N shrugged.

"I knew you didn't care what happened to us, N, but that's cruel, even for you." I refused to contact with him. Such a man did not deserve eye contact, I thought.

"I am not cruel-"

"I was goddamn shot, for Arceus' sake! They could have killed me!" I looked at my bandage again. It was bleeding again from all my movement.

"You are the head of a terrorism-based organization whose only goals are to bring down the new system."

That same cold tone from earlier saturated every syllable.

"We both know I am not a terrorist. Admit it, N," My head was starting to feel light, as if it might pop off of my shoulders and fly away. Some blood had leaked through my bandage. Most of the feral sound had seeped out of the edges of my voice. My eyelids were suddenly very heavy. "We were- were preventing a coup. Plasma was overthrowing the League and our political system..."

Before I became unconscious again, I saw N press a button on the wall, probably calling for a nurse.

And yet again, I fell into the darkness.

_I was seven years old again. In front of me was a scattered stack of about twenty drawings. My mom was worriedly leaning over me, examining them._

_"These aren't of... Daddy, are they?" she asked, her voice sounding strange._  
_I smiled and handed her one that I was particularly proud of._

_"Yes, Momma!" I eagerly watched her view it. Her eyebrows furrowed and she uneasily shifted on her feet._

_"Honey, I don't think you should- please don't draw Daddy this way."_

_"Why not? It's the way I last saw him," I don't remember why but tears were dried on my cheeks. I had silently sobbed while coloring._

_She only looked more upset. Mom just sighed and folded the paper, putting it in her back pocket. She stooped to hug me and kiss my forehead._

_"It's... well, I love you, sweetie," Mom seemed conflicted, but at the time it just flew over my head._

_"I love you too, Mommy."_

_A stray drawing flew to the nearby fireplace when a strong that of wind slammed the window open. I watched, mesmerized, as the flames devoured the drawing._

_On the paper, in stark black and red pigments, was the portrayal of my father's death. A tall man was surrounded by Mightyena, while a small girl hid in the trees. And she watched- for hours, it seemed- a pack of Mightyena consume her father._

_Suddenly, the dream changed. The comfortable, warm atmosphere of my house in Nuvema was now a cold, dark space._

_"Touko," Reshiram called. His voice echoed with a deep timbre. I could not see. It was like my eyelids were sewed shut. I had nearly no sense of self, as if my spirit were just floating around._

_"Reshiram?" I answered, the words flowing from me, but not from my /br /tt/pre_  
_pre style="font-size: 9pt;"tt"You are Hero of Truth. Truth always finds a way to show itself, although sometimes when it is not needed. Listen to me! You must escape. Do not fall for trickery."br /_  
_"What do you mean, I would never-"_

_"You don't understand yet. You are the cat and he is the snake- locked in combat until one succumbs. Do not let his words slither into your heart." Reshiram's voice was fading, fast. "Your rescue is in the hands of the Furuikishi..."_

_"Wait, Reshiram! Who-" But he was gone, and it was time to wake up._

**A/N- Is this OOC? I haven't written N since the "Mary Sue Incident" all the way back when I was 12. It's been a while since I played the game as well. I need you guys to nitpick and criticize! I apologize for Touko's Eren Yeager-like "I'll kill you all". (Really, Eren, you overdo it sometimes. But I still love you. *chains him to bed*) Unf, Eren- hnng... Oh, you're still here? Please leave a review, even if it's just a few words. Thanks! *Eren screams for help***


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